“A prince among men.” This was the way our mother described
our father. Her adoration taught us – even when we were kids -- that love is pure and enduring. And it explains
how special our father was: an evolved man, loving, and honorable with a beautiful,
almost one-of-a-kind blend of intellect, presence and charm. Today, Mom’s words comfort me because they help
me understand why my sense of loss feels so overwhelming. I’m sure they also aptly convey why Lois – and
all of us -- loved him so.
Ira lived a wonderfully rich life and he died his way – with
dignity and directness. This was important to him and I know we all find
comfort in knowing that he had a peaceful end after his 82 full years.
He leaves behind his loving wife, Lois, us Keats kids and our
spouses, Lois’ children, all of the grandchildren, plus his extended family and
friends. Combined, in bits and pieces,
we represent the legacy of Ira’s “kingdom”.
In all of us, we can see a bit of our prince-- in our beautiful families,
life pursuits, work ethic, sense of adventure and personal convictions.
Throughout his life, Dad demonstrated the importance of
loyalty, love, doing the right thing and having fun. He was our Hamotzi go-to
man. At family celebrations, he’d stand
next to that challah, his blue eyes beaming out to the crowd and with just a
few words and a wave of his hand, Dad could hush a buzzing room and command
attention. He was worthy of respect and he
earned it through his actions and reasoning. His endearing charm radiated
warmth as immediately as those flaring nostrils signaled something altogether
different.
I’m grateful to have been his daughter and feel lucky to have
grown up in that loving Keats household, nurtured with an unwavering belief in
my personal abilities and relevance, and showered with all the gifts of
opportunity Dad generously bestowed upon us.
There were five children, so very different and yet we each felt
special -- building a connection with
our father that throughout the years, miles and turns in our lives– was lasting
and real.
At Dad’s and Lois’ wedding, I remember my father toasting his
bride. He recollected his dismay that earlier in life, his heart had the
capacity to love “more” after he fell for Mom.
Back then the trigger for this realization was parenthood. Times five. After we lost Mom, Dad was strong, but different. Heartbroken.
He explained how lucky he felt to have discovered Love again and in Lois
he found the woman with whom he could live out his Chapter 2. I’m sure their happy
marriage was a big reason why we all got to enjoy 20 plus more years with our
beloved father. For that, LoLo, we’re so
very grateful.
I have a lifetime of memories of my dad: the King that no one
could Beat at Keats Ford, a father lovingly tucking his daughter into bed, a
parent sternly affirming an important life lesson, countless family vacations,
holidays, and adventures, laughter and love.
He was a devoted son and husband, a proud father and grandfather, a
fanatical traveler and golfer, a passionate reader and gifted writer and, lest
we forget, a born-again Democrat/Liberal. I know I’m selfish wishing I had more time
with Dad and for the opportunity to share with him the joys that lie ahead for
our family.
It’s painful saying goodbye to our father, Pops….Ira, because
of the way he lived his life. It just
seems too soon, despite his 82 years. I
understand that while this deep, aching heartache will soften over time, we
will miss him for years and years to come.
Forever, actually. I know this because
Mom was right about our father. Dad was a
Prince Among Men.